Poems (Cook)/Our Sailors and our Ships

by Eliza Cook

OUR SAILORS AND OUR SHIPS.

How dashingly in sun and light the frigate makes her way;
Her white wings spreading full and bright beneath the glancing ray!
The gale may wake, but she will take whatever wind may come;
Fit car to bear the ocean-god upon his crystal home.
She cleaves the tide with might and pride, like war-horse freed from rein;
She treats the wave like abject slave-the empress of the main:
All, all shall mark the gallant bark, their hearts upon their lips;
And cry, "Old England, who shall match thy Sailors and thy Ships?"

Stout forms, strong arms, and dauntless spirits dwell upon the deck;
True to their cause in calm or storm, in battle or in wreck.
No foe will meet a coward hand, faint heart or quailing eye:
They only know to fall or stand, to live the brave, or die.
The flag that carries round the world a Nelson's victor name
Must never shield a dastard knave or strike in craven shame.
Let triumph scan her blazing page, no record shall eclipse
The glory of Old England's Cross, her Sailors and her Ships.

The tempest breath sweeps o'er the sea with howlings of despair,
Death walks upon the waters, but the tar must face and bear:
The bullets hiss, the broadside pours, 'mid sulphur, blood, and smoke,
And prove a British crew and craft alike are hearts of oak.
Oh! ye who live 'mid fruit and flowers—the peaceful, safe, and free—
Yield up a prayer for those who dare the perils of the sea.
"God and our Right!" these are the words e'er first upon our lips;
But next shall be, "Old England's flag, our Sailors and our Ships!"